


Across the Water

by caughtitonland



Series: Teethmarks [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, [challenge] h50_50, [genre] angst, [verse] teethmarks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caughtitonland/pseuds/caughtitonland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hyacinths in full bloom. Waves lapping at the sand.<br/>Sun warming every last inch of the house. It couldn't be a more perfect day for coming home if Danny had tried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Water

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 of the Teethmarks series

  
  
  
  
_”And when your mind narrows, and your heart clings, you remember  
how his chest felt when you tucked  
that final note in his jacket pocket,”_

\- After He's Gone, Sina Queyras  
  
---  
  
Hyacinths in full bloom. Waves lapping at the sand. Sun warming every last inch of the house. It couldn't be a more perfect day for coming home if Danny had tried. He ignores everyone's looks of concern as he wheels Steve up to the stairs of the house, carefully turning the chair so that its back is facing the three steps before attempting to lift his partner up and over. Shame burns through him as he sees his arms shaking with the strain; he tries again, but only manages to lift Steve a few inches up the first stair. Kono steps in and helps him lift before he can say anything and despite his embarrassment, he thanks her softly. She merely nods before holding the door open.

Danny stays in the kitchen, away from all the conversation as Kono, Chin, the Governor, and Kamekona all get their fill of speaking with Steve. He can't stand the noise, the chittering sound that makes them all resemble mice around a block of cheese; it makes him angry, nervous, and twitchy. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Danno!” Steve's voice is back to normal and there's a laugh in it as he calls for his other half, one arm draped over the back of the couch as he looks around for him.

“Right here, babe.” His own voice is nowhere near its original quality, quiet and meek, as though at any moment, he's going to get hit. He walks into Steve's line of sight but makes no move to get closer; Steve's eyebrows shoot up instantly.

“I know I haven't showered in a few months, but I got sponge baths, brah. I'm not _that_ stinky. C'mere.”

Danny's face twitches uncontrollably and he blinks rapidly to keep the tears at bay as he shakes his head, unwilling to so much as touch Steve unless it's to help him do something. Physical contact, especially when done solely for love and comfort, is something he's become a stranger to, and the mere notion of Steve hugging him is enough to make him start trembling visibly.

“Danno? You okay?”

“F-fine. Gonna go start on dinner,” he nods, hurrying back to the kitchen, fist jammed against his lips to keep a tight lid on things. Now is _not_ the time. Steve's progress since waking has been nothing short of miraculous and he'll be damned if he's the one to stop that forward motion. The longer he can keep from breaking down in front of Steve, the better.

Dinner is prepared without much fuss and more importantly, without interruption by Steve which is all the better considering that Danny can't stop the tears from streaming down his face the whole time he's cooking. It's such a silly thing, really, missing the fact that Steve's not hugging him from behind as he stirs the sauce for the pasta. Such a silly little thing, yet he finds himself biting down hard on his lower lip to keep the sounds of agony from escaping as he finishes making Steve's plate, needing it to be perfect for him.

He'd overheard the doctors talking during one of Steve's last days in the hospital. They weren't talking about their patient, but about the man sitting next to him. They were talking about Danny's mental health. Terms like 'PTSD', 'Severe Depression', and 'Dissociative State' were thrown around, and while Danny couldn't make sense of a lot of it, he knew what they were talking about in a more general sense; he wasn't coping.

The tears are wiped away before he shuffles back out to the living room, one plate, one fork, one knife, and one napkin in hand. Danny makes quick work of setting everything neatly down on the coffee table before pushing it closer so that Steve doesn't have to reach as far.

“Enjoy, babe,”

“Hey, wait, aren't you gonna eat? Danny, wait!” But he's already gone, back to the kitchen to clean up, face red with shame, knowing that Steve's probably gotten an eyeful of his newly-emaciated boyfriend. Danny didn't mean to lose so much weight, but when the priority was on Steve, everything else took a back seat, including his own meals.

The shaking hasn't gone away completely since the explosion; Danny's not sure it ever will. It makes scrubbing the pots a little harder than he remembers and he sniffles quietly as he envisions the sud fights he and Steve used to get into when they tag-teamed the post-dinner mess.

Danny gives Steve a good half an hour to eat, during which he busies himself cleaning the kitchen, putting clean sheets on the bed, and getting the bathroom ready for Steve's shower. No detail is spared, from the slip-proof mats, to the softest linen Steve owns. He wants his other half to be as comfortable as possible and he'll spare no expense.

Steve's giving him aneurism when he returns to the living room, and while it was once cause for laughter, now all Danny feels is guilt for putting the look there. “I'm sorry,” he whispers out, the words not even loud enough to be heard as he gathers Steve's plate and hurries it into the kitchen before coming back out to find his partner already standing and heading for the stairs.

“Wait, be careful,” Danny warns, following behind at a safe distance, terrified that Steve's going to fall and re-injure himself. While the doctors assured him that everything was healed, including the godawful break in his leg that required the external fixator and traction, Danny won't trust their words for another few weeks, preferring to play it on the safe side; Steve's not in the same school of thought by a long shot. He moves up the stairs as though he'd never been blown clear out of a building, as though he didn't spend two months in a coma, as though he hadn't laid on the dirty warehouse floor staring straight at Death while Danny did his best to put his intestines back in his abdomen.

Danny knows he deserves the door being slammed in his face; isn't even surprised when it nearly crashes into his nose. He hasn't so much as held Steve's hand since he was discharged, the reality of having him home again being too overwhelming for him to process in one go. His shoulders drop along with his head and pads back down the stairs, hoping the salty evening air will calm the shaking enough to let him at least lay next to Steve for what will be his first night's sleep back home.

It would be so easy to go upstairs, climb in the shower behind him and just hug him until neither could breathe, but the image of Steve laying there, gasping like a fish out of water are still too vivid, too bright. Danny shivers as he tightens his arms around himself, the breeze coming off the ocean reminding him too much of the wind that blew ash and dirt into his eyes as he waited for rescue to come cart his partner off.

A part of him was eternally lost that day. Most would call it an innocence, but Danny knows better. What he lost that day was part of his soul, the part that held his optimism, his hope for a normal, happy future. The part of him that opened up to love again. He doesn't bother wiping away the tears this time, knowing Steve can't see him from the bathroom.

When he hears the distinct creak of the shower turning off, Danny scampers back inside, rubbing his eyes as he goes, trying above all else to look normal. Steve needs normal, needs calm, and peace. He catches him just outside the door and the two fumble around each other before heading in opposite directions; Steve to the bedroom and Danny to the shower.

Danny doesn't have the energy to shave as he stands under the boiling spray, the heat turning his skin a marred red that screams volumes about how he feels inside. He does the essentials in terms of washing and shampooing and then lets the water wash away more tears of loss and anguish. Things will never be the same, he knows this now. Never will they have the carefree spontaneity that was so elemental between them. It shatters his heart all over again.

Steve seems to be asleep when Danny finally tip-toes out of the bathroom and slides under the sheets, as nude as his partner. It only took one week of balmy summer evenings for both of them to decide that the sheet was more than enough material to keep them warm and comfortable during the precious hours they spent sleeping in Steve's bed.

Danny keeps his back to his partner, terrified that seeing him asleep will bring back the images that have been replaying in his head all day. It took the duration of his shower to clear his thoughts. The full moon reflects off the ocean and for a moment, Danny thinks he might actually be able to sleep. It won't be the same easy rest he used to get with Steve cocooning him, but it'll be enough to get by; that's all he can ask for now. Enough to get by.

The strong arm that pulls him close startles Danny badly; so badly in fact, that he not only shudders, but lets out something akin to a cry of fear. It's a meager sound that makes Steve instinctively tighten his hold, Danny's body tugged up as close as possible. It only takes a few simple words for the levy to break.

“I'm still here, baby.”

He tries to wail but when he opens his mouth, no sound escapes. Tears flood his vision and he feels the shaking start up again, Danny curling in on himself to try and keep Steve from feeling it too. It's a fruitless attempt, because in a matter of seconds, Steve is turning him over and pulling him close, one hand rubbing his back vigorously while the other tangles in his hair, keeping his head pressed up against his heart. Months of torment all spill out like choppy, wind-battered waves as Danny relinquishes all control. Danny curls his fist against his partner's chest before flattening his palm over his sternum, trying to convince himself that Steve is there and okay and real.

“I missed you!” Danny's not even sure Steve will understand the whimpered words, the anguish and longing stealing his breath and causing the gaping hole in his heart to open wider than he can stand it. Steve merely tucks his head and kisses the crown of Danny's head, smoothing his hair back from his sweat-soaked brow.

“I missed you too, babe. I missed you too.”

And though he can't stop the tears, Danny feels the shaking start to slow, to ease from his muscles; starts to feel the hole closing, inch by inch, and knows that things might be better tomorrow.


End file.
